Blooming Flower
by DarknessMyNameBetrothed
Summary: It's done. It's over. Melinda has told what has happened to her, that means everything goes back to normal right? No. Everything is about to get a lot worse.


**New story anyone? I read this story and just had to do this. Well, let's get on with it.C:**

**Disclaimer:I do not own speak.**

**Oxo#**

* * *

A hot stuffy air blew in through my window and I glanced over at it. It had splotches of unknown splotches of clear substances, and was covered in dust. Hm. I looked for a wash rag laying somewhere on the rug-less hard wood, and found one next to a half empty paint bucket. It had small black stains on it but it seemed to be dry. So I leaned down and grabbed it, and headed to the window. I walked around paint buckets of all different colors and types, then stumbled against the wall when my pant's leg caught on the handle of one of them. Shaking my leg free I started to press the rag against the window and rubbed. Round and round. Side to side. Circle then line. Watching the rag smudge the stains all across the mirror reminded of my blurred feelings. I brought my hand up and wiped my finger around in circles in the smudge. My lips pulled back into a tight grimace and I pushed my finger harder into the window.

Lately mom and dad have been talking to cops, and calls have been coming in like crazy. Everyone keeps asking me if I'm okay, people I don't even know stop me in the hallways and say how they knew Andy was bad news, and that they are there for me if I need it. Every time someone stops me and talks to me I feel like my stomach is about to explode, my stomach acid bubbles up and swashes angrily side to side then travels up. My responses begin to get snippy and short. I don't want to puke on them. "Ew that girl that Andy rapped just threw up on me. Think I got a disease?"

I still haven't told them the whole story, every time I try to my throat constricts and my teeth clamp down together. Chomp. Then my teeth start to grind together. Shink shink shink. After they realize that my mouth has been locked, they smile sadly and pat me on a shoulder, and with a quick, "We'll try again later.", they leave. Once they leave I feel the empty abyss of loneliness creep up behind me, like a black shroud of depression is gliding in through my window. Closed or not.

Depression has a way of doing that, decomposing from the inside out.

Decomposing

Constricts

Rotting

Dead

Done

No one told me this would be the hardest part. Coming out with it, was like the confession was ripping it's self free from chest, bursting open in a fit of expression. See me! I am here!

I am ready

Once I passed that slip of paper to my ex-best friend, it was as I had thrown a heavy quilt off my back. I stood a bit straighter, my steps a bit prouder.

Yet now, I kind of wish I hadn't told. I wish I had just nodded and wrote, "I was stupid, I'm sorry." On that paper instead. Then I could go on in life, fading into the background. A few people would still hate me, but I could deal with that. Just go lock myself back into my closet.

No... I don't wish that. Rachel would still be with him. He could do to her, what he's done to me, and god knows who else. I just wish everyone would leave me alone. Do you think I want to think about it every day? Or talk about it? I don't like people. Not anymore, I'm so tired of people. They're so nosey, have to always know what's going on. I just want things to go back to normal, hell not even treats me the same. You would think that after a year things would calm down, but no. Everyone talks about how the girls found me in the closet that day, and people always add stuff to the story, stuff that didn't even happen.

I pursued my lips and blew a gush of hot air out. I should probably get ready, school today. I shifted my eyes over at the clock and saw what time it was. Seven twenty five, the bus will be here in about ten minuets. Great. Now I only have ten minuets to get ready. I pushed off the wall and stepped around more paint cans, when I happened to glance up. My lips pulled back into a tight grimace. A full length mirror leaned against the wall in front of me. My jeans had paint splatters all over them and my holy purple shirt fell limp off my body. I continued to look in the mirror until my eyes locked with my own. I immediately looked away and stepped to my dresser. The second drawer always get's stuck and is hard to open. I've been asking for a new drawer for weeks. I sighed and wrapped my fingers around the dresser knob and yanked. It wouldn't budge. Great. I yanked again, and again and finally, I yanked and the drawer flew open. I stumbled backwards and hit my head on my beds leg. My hand came up to rub my head and I felt my annoyance leak through my body. Great.

* * *

Well, I know it's short. Sorry I'll update soon! :D


End file.
